The Giant Killer Awakens
The Giant Killer. “Time to run it.”
Even without warnings or errors, programs sometimes behave strangely the moment you execute them. Missing links can prevent parts of the source code from compiling, and in rare cases even the compiler fails to catch warnings or errors hidden in the code. The only way to build a flawless program is through rigorous testing.
Yoo Jae-won’s fingers flew across the keyboard. He typed the office suite’s launch command, START, like lightning and hit Enter. The hard disk whirred several times, then the familiar desktop appeared.
The 640×480 VGA screen with 16-bit 64K color was immaculate. The wallpaper was a scanned photograph of the clear spring sky and blue mountains behind Deokjin-ri. It was a hidden image that only appeared in 16-bit color; users limited to 256 or 16 colors saw a mosaic-style homage to Mondrian’s Composition II in Red, Yellow, and Blue.
In the upper left corner sat the large icons for the office suite: Word Processor, Spreadsheet, Database, and Presentation. Instead of giving each program a unique name, Jae-won had simply used their functions, prefixed with “ID” to distinguish them from competitors. The desktop held more than just those icons. There was also a file manager shaped like a folder, icons for the Korean and English versions of Keyboard Warrior, and even the beta version of Wolfenstein.
Every ID Technology product installed on the computer was automatically detected and placed on the desktop as an icon.
“Auto-detection passes,” Jae-won said, checking off the first item on his list: Does the program register automatically? He moved to the next item: Does the mouse register automatically?
He grabbed the chunky three-button mouse and moved it. A cursor hidden in the corner of the screen followed smoothly. Smoothness and responsiveness—qualities Jae-won refused to compromise. The mouse movement felt different from other programs. Most software still produced a slightly jerky feel even when mouse support was present, but in ID Office the cursor glided as though it truly existed inside the monitor.
The cursor’s refresh rate was the key. Most programs used 30 Hz; ID Office ran at 85 Hz—nearly three times faster—matching the monitor’s refresh rate. The difference was obvious. When scrolling with the mouse, a 30 Hz cursor stuttered while the 85 Hz cursor moved fluidly. High-performance settings required compatible hardware, but any well-made product following proper communication standards worked fine. A low-speed fallback mode existed for older systems.
“Mouse is good too.”
With the mouse confirmed, Jae-won clicked the Start button. A pull-down menu unfurled smoothly, revealing the list of installed programs, recent documents, settings, search, and help. The Ribbon Interface he had drawn on paper was working perfectly. A clock displaying the date and time sat in the far right corner. The basics were excellent. Right-clicking to change resolution or color depth also worked flawlessly.
“All right, let’s get to the main event.”
Jae-won launched ID Word Processor. A large title logo appeared in the center of the screen, with rows of patent numbers listed beneath it in tiny print. Developing the office suite had produced numerous new technologies, all of which had been patented. The word processor loaded in exactly three seconds—clear proof of the 486’s power. A 386 would have taken six to eight seconds.
He launched the spreadsheet, database, and presentation programs as well. Using Alt+Tab, he switched between them on the taskbar. He even opened a second instance of the word processor to load another document. Thanks to 4 MB of RAM, multiple instances ran smoothly. The optimization was so good that even on 1 MB systems the programs only stuttered briefly during launch before settling into fluid performance.
Jae-won tested every function he could think of. He imported a document written in Jewel Word and saved it as an ID Word Processor file. He loaded a cafeteria accounting spreadsheet sent from the Yeoju branch—originally created in Lotus 1-2-3—into ID Database, then exported it to the spreadsheet program for cleanup. He created a bar graph of pork price fluctuations in the spreadsheet, copied it into the word processor, and pasted it without issue. Printer output was perfect as well; the bar graph printed cleanly and no text was garbled.
Everything flowed without friction. Technologically, ID Office stood in a completely different league from existing office software.
“Three or four years ahead, maybe?”
He would need a more detailed comparison later, but the technological gap was overwhelming. At minimum, three years. In the IT industry, being three years ahead meant leading the field.
“No room for complacency.”
Jae-won reined in the surge of pride. The program ran smoothly now, but with hundreds of thousands of lines of source code, unexpected bugs could still surface anywhere. A true professional didn’t stop at building something excellent; the real goal was selling it in volume.
He would call the Silicon Valley team at dawn tomorrow to discuss the open beta test and release schedule.
“Still, let’s enjoy today.”
Having completed the major task, Jae-won stood up and stretched. He felt incredibly refreshed. At the same time, his stomach growled. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the school lunch.
“At times like this, it’s fine to reward yourself.”
In his previous life, Jae-won had always given himself a gift after finishing something big. With no one else to look after him, he had started the habit of treating himself. At first it was expensive chocolate like Godiva. As successes piled up and his wallet grew, the rewards became gaming PCs and eventually a German sedan with the three-pointed star. Even when the gifts grew larger, he still enjoyed finding small, personal treats.
Now that same habit made him feel he deserved something nice. Several ideas came to mind, some expensive. But what he wanted most right now wasn’t luxury.
“Ugh, chicken and beer would be perfect.”
Biting into a plump, juicy chicken leg and washing it down with cold beer—nothing could be better. If he wanted, he could sneak a bottle of beer. But the beer he craved was the authentic German Weihenstephaner Original Lager, served in a tall Das Bier Boot and downed in one go. That was impossible to find even in Seoul. The only domestic beers available were OB and Crown.
“Wait—beer might be out of reach, but chicken? I can do chicken right now.”
Jae-won knew the recipe by heart. He could buy live chickens in bulk from Soogyung’s family and cooking oil from the brown-rice oil factory owner. The only remaining issues were brining and frying, and now he had proper cooking facilities. Since he was making chicken anyway, why not fry hundreds of pieces and share them with the kids to celebrate the office suite’s completion?
True to his decisive nature, Jae-won immediately went to the phone and started making calls.
The next dawn.
“—Hah! You caught all the bugs?”
Over the phone, Silicon Valley project manager Mario Rogers sounded astonished.
“Yes? Yes. Haven’t you finished compiling yet?”
—We’re still chasing errors. Fix A and B breaks, fix B and H and Z break. It’s driving me crazy.
Debugging was always like that. If you finished coding and got zero warnings and zero errors, that itself was suspicious.
“Haha, it wasn’t an algorithm problem. Just function and variable spelling mistakes—O and 0, that sort of thing.”
—What? It was all just typos?
“Yes. Once I fixed every typo and compiled, it came out error-free. The build finished easily. I ran it and didn’t find any major issues.”
—Really? Thank goodness!
“As soon as we hang up, I’ll upload the verified source code. Use that to build and start internal testing. If internal testing goes well, move to public beta. Vice Chairman Remington knows the process.”
—Boss? You mean the same method we used for Keyboard Warrior?
This time it was Remington’s voice.
“Exactly.”
Keyboard Warrior’s explosive launch still gave him chills. A masterpiece that had conquered the American market on gameplay alone. The paid beta-tester review bomb they had prepared had been swept away by the game’s own momentum, so they hadn’t even needed the viral or keyword marketing campaigns they had lined up as backup.
But an office suite was a productivity tool; expecting the same explosive launch as a game was unrealistic. That meant it was time to deploy the advanced marketing techniques they hadn’t used last year.
“Of course, internet and PC-communication marketing aren’t everything. Prepare traditional advertising too—magazines and even TV commercials.”
Securing market position was crucial. They needed to plant the idea in people’s minds that “office software” meant ID Office. When someone thought of a word file, the extension .IDW should come to mind immediately. For spreadsheets it would be .IDS, and for presentations .IDP.
The program’s quality was guaranteed. The only potential drawback was the requirement for a 386 and VGA—high-end hardware at the time. A year ago that would have been fatal, but not anymore. Thanks to Keyboard Warrior, the killer title that popularized high-spec components, millions of VGA cards had shipped. 386 machines were selling over a million units a month. When the 486 launched this year, VGA would become standard and SVGA cards would spread rapidly.
—Then we should start recruiting paid beta testers.
“Yes. Focus on university students and office workers who write a lot of reports. Tailor the rewards to what those groups want.”
—Understood, boss.
“Oh, and if there are any computer expos coming up, we should participate. Let me know the schedule if any are planned.”
—A computer expo. Got it!
Jae-won ended the call after receiving Remington’s confirmation. Electronic Arts had a strong retail network in North America, but it specialized in games. While individual consumers might buy the office suite, the main targets were corporations and government offices. To supply those organizations, they needed credible credentials—participating in expos and winning awards would help.
Jae-won didn’t have a concrete plan yet for which events to enter. He simply wanted something big and flashy. After all, they were announcing a weapon capable of slaying giants; maximum spotlight would be ideal.
“What about the domestic market?”
If they succeeded in North America first, like with Keyboard Warrior, the domestic market would follow automatically. But waiting idly until then would simply waste time.
“Then I guess we start with the chaebol tour?”
Domestically, securing contracts with the major conglomerates would make everything else fall into place. Winning government offices was also important, but that required political maneuvering and couldn’t be done immediately.
Jae-won thought of the businessmen who viewed him favorably. Naturally, Sambo Computer and Mirae Group came to mind.
“First, I need to set up meetings.”
Jae-won sent a fax to Chief of Staff Choi Kang-wook asking him to arrange schedules with the chairmen.